


Dear Diary | Tony Stark x Peter Parker

by Smitherin7



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Anxiety Attacks, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner and Tony Stark are still Lab Buddies, Bully Flash Thompson, Cutting, Depressed Peter Parker, Flash Thompson Being A Jerk, Flash Thompson Bullies Peter Parker, Flash is Homophobic, Good Friend Ned Leeds, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt Peter Parker, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, May doesn't know Peter is Spiderman, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Ned Leeds is a Sweetheart, Not Canon Compliant, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker Has Anxiety, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Swears, Peter Parker is Ambidextrious, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter Parker-centric, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Protective Tony Stark, Scars, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Harming Peter Parker, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Starker, Suicidal Peter Parker, Suicidal Thoughts, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Loves Peter Parker, Tony and Pepper are divorced, Vomiting, Worried Ned Leeds, tony is Trying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:15:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29189886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smitherin7/pseuds/Smitherin7
Summary: -------------------------------------------------------------------Dear diary,I wanted to kill myself a little bit more today.-------------------------------------------------------------------Peter is 17 in this
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 9
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

\--------------------------------------------------------------------  
Dear diary,

I wanted to kill myself a little bit more today.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter had woken up late today, an occurrence that had been happening more frequently. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the later nights that he patrolled around the city or if it was his deteriorating mental state.

His alarm had been going off for a couple of hours, finally being silenced when he opened his phone and tiredly hit the dismiss button. As he forced himself to sit up, he started to wonder why May hadn’t come to get him after five minutes of the incessant noise.

His question was answered when he walked out of his room and saw a note stuck to the fridge, something that only happened when May had to leave in a hurry.

\---------------------------------------  
Had to head out, I’ll be back in a few days <3  
\---------------------------------------

Peter looked towards the bathroom and towards the door to the hall. He was already late to school, he couldn’t afford to be much later. 

“Fuck it.” He huffed, dashing back to his room and grabbing a hoodie, pulling it over his head quickly. He scooped up his backpack from next to his desk and flung it over his shoulder, already halfway to the door when his stomach growled.

He spun back to the kitchen, shooting out a web to open a cupboard then another to grab a granola bar. He had run through the halls of the apartment building to try and make up for any fragment of lost time, as if it would do any good.

In typical New York fashion, there was a downpour that had been predicted to turn into a thunderstorm sometime during the afternoon. With his knotted up hair sticking to his forehead, he ran into the nearby back alley and quickly started slinging his way towards the school.

Late, drenched and freezing, Peter finally made it to school. Sure he felt like crying, sure he wanted nothing more than to snap his own neck, sure he’s more miserable than ever...

But he made it to school that morning.

Waking up late and hungry, then slinging to school in the rain was just the tip of the shitsberg of a day for him. Before he’d even made it to his locker, Flash had found him. With a shove to the floor and a kick to the ribs, Flash knelt down so they could be relatively eye level.

“Hope you didn’t think that being late would get you off the hook.” He scoffed, shoving Peter’s head against the tiled floor. He watched as Flash stepped over him and continued down the hallway as he laid motionless, biting back tears.

When he managed to get up, which wasn’t for a few minutes, he dragged himself to his locker and tossed his bag inside. He pulled the soaked up hoodie off his torso and pulled the spare from his locker hook and quickly put it on. 

“Please... Nononono- Fuck!” Peter slammed his locker shut and smashed his fist against it in frustration, consequently punching through the metal. As he pulled his hand back through the new hole, the edges scratched at his bare flesh, not that cuts were something new to him.

He had forgotten his binder at home in his rush to get out.

At this point, Peter was one more shitty event away from having a complete breakdown.

He trudged down the hall to his class with his hands in his sweater, his head scrunched down and his shoulders tense as all Hell.

The door squeaked as it opened, drawing everyone’s attention to Peter. He grimaced as he walked over to his desk, his sneakers squeaked and squished against the floor.

“Sorry...” His voice sounded so broken, there were cackles and laughter filled with mockery. He felt thoroughly humiliated. Thankfully, he only had to sit in that class for another twenty minutes.

He showed up on time for his next class, sat in the back with his hood up and his head down. 

Lunch was about as good as the rest of the day had been. Since he didn’t have time to make himself lunch, he decided to buy lunch. There was no need to cause himself more pain than he was prepared for that day, so he bought himself a sandwich. 

He sat next to Ned and did his best to fake a genuine smile as his friend went on excitedly about some new lego set he got. It was nice to hear some genuine happiness, it was refreshing.

Then Flash was thrown onto their table, squishing both of their lunches. Peter inhaled sharply in annoyance and slight pain, all the kid wanted to do was fucking eat. His stomach tensed in discomfort.

He needed a break so after his lunch was ruined, he ducked into the bathroom and locked himself in the stall furthest from the door. By the time the bell had rung for next period, he had planned on being stable enough to head back.

That did not happen, he had sat there for about an hour, half of it was spent sobbing; hugging himself tightly, the other half was to avoid going to class late again. He’d rather be marked absent.

Once he splashed his face with some water and regained himself, he stepped out into the hallway and went to look for Ned. Other kids crowded the space, walking to their next classes or going to their friends' lockers to talk for a little bit or head to the bathroom. Finally though, he managed to find his only friend.

“You didn’t show up to History, where were you?” He was definitely worried, between Peter showing up late more often, not paying attention in class and sometimes downright ditching it, he had to be worried. Peter had managed to play it off as an emergency downtown, a shooting down at a bank and that he was the only one available to stop it.

“Here, I took notes for you.” Ned dug through his bag and pulled out some sheets of looseleaf stapled together and held them out with a smile. Peter gave him a half-smile back and took the papers, skimming over the words.

Peter knew he couldn’t tell Ned about the hole of depression he had fallen into, the suffocating self-hatred and wishes of death that came with it. He just couldn’t.

It wasn’t that he thought Ned would judge him or make fun of him for it, Ned would never do that to him. He couldn’t bring himself to bring him down with him, not when he was one of the only people to support him.

Besides, if he had told Ned, he would’ve felt obligated to tell May and there was no way he was gonna drag her into this. 

“Thanks, Ned. You’re the best.” Peter sighed, a genuine smile found its way to his face for a brief moment. They walked to his locker together so he could put the papers away.

“What the Hell happened to your locker, man?” Ned examined the rupture in the metal door, almost admiring the sharp edges of the broken material with faint dried blood on the edges.

“Oh, y’know...” Peter shrugged, slamming the door shut and starting to his next class, Ned trailing behind him quickly after.

At some point during class, a sudden and vicious clap of thunder echoed through what felt like the whole school, causing Peter’s heart to figuratively explode. Had his heart literally exploded, he would’ve been much happier with that. The rain became heavier, pittering against the windows of the classroom and the claps of thunder became more regular.

There was one more class to go, then Peter would be able to go home. He’d be able to go home and curl up into a ball under his blankets, whether he’d have the energy to cry again was up in the air.

The last class wasn’t great either, he had been partnered with Flash for a short assignment that was due before the end of the hour. As Peter predicted, he did almost all of the work, all Flash did was write his name. That was his contribution.

“Are you done yet?” Flash stretched out back, pushing his chair onto the back legs and putting his feet on the desk. If Peter were alone with him and not in a classroom filled with other students, he would’ve pushed him backward. 

“If you aren’t gonna help me, you could at least shut up.” Peter wasn’t in the mood to try and be polite to him, he’d had the shittiest day and Flash was really pushing him.

“Oh-hoh, careful Parker, you wouldn’t wanna cut yourself on that ‘sharp wit’,” He motioned air quotes with the sharp wit before continuing with a cackle, “Oh wait, you already do, you fucking freak.” Flash grabbed the cuff of Peter’s right sleeve and pulled it up aggressively, revealing scars and fresh marks scattered across his arm.

Before Peter could pull his sleeve back down, Flash tightened his grip and pulled him up by the wrist, presenting him like a deer that had just been shot.

“Hey everyone, check it out! Everytime Penis Parker cuts, I get a little richer. Now you know why my family is so rich.” Flash taunted, causing laughter to erupt from most of the room. Peter felt his eyes sting sharply, shutting his eyes tightly to try and keep himself from crying. His throat felt like it could crack from how dry it was, his heart thumped in his chest so heavily he could feel blood crashing through his ears.

“Let go of me!” Peter yelled, punching him in the stomach with his free hand. Flash wheezed and started coughing, losing his grip on Peter’s wrist. With everyone’s eyes on him, most of his classmates still laughing, Peter wanted to run. He wanted to hide.

He felt his legs shake as he tried desperately to move them, it was his own personal Hell. when the teacher came back into the classroom, everyone quickly went back to their work, leaving Peter standing, trembling with his now pulled-down sleeve tightly in his hand.

“Mr. Parker, is there something you need?” She asked with an eyebrow quirked, freshly stacked paper from the printer. She had run out to grab new worksheets for their next lesson, she had been out for five minutes at the most for the love of God.

“Can I g-go to the... The...” He tried desperately to moisten his throat, “Bathroom?” There was that break in his voice he was waiting for. Snickers circled him.

“Go ahead.” She nodded her head dismissively. Without a second thought, he bolted towards the main doors and into the rain. 

Peter sunk down into his desk chair with a pencil in his mouth, the paint along the length utterly ruined by the bite marks that covered it. He brushed his fingers over his cheek, feeling the dried tear stains that he hadn’t bothered to deal with. He pushed himself up and walked over to his mirror, staring dejectedly at his hideous reflection.

He looked at the scars that covered him, scars from fights, basic injuries... Himself. The scars he inflicted upon himself mainly covered his arms and hips. Some were more jagged than others, shaky hands from sobbing and trying to catch his breath.

Peter hated the way he looked, he hated the way he was in general honestly.

His self-loathing was interrupted when he heard his phone start to ring. He fell onto his bed and grabbed it, face brightening slightly when he saw the name.

Tony Stark  
Accept Decline


	2. Chapter 2

Tony Stark. One of, if not Peter’s biggest weakness. He ran his fingers through his dishevelled hair to try and look somewhat presentable, with a quick breath, he hit accept.

“What’s up, M-Mr. Stark?” Peter bit his lip harshly in frustration from the stutter. He always tripped up on his words when he talked to his mentor, another thing that was on his long list of things he despised about himself. Tony looked up from whatever he was working on and waved, smiling excitedly.

“Hey Kid, you busy?”

Peter looked over to the diary on his desk and then back to the screen, “Not really, I was just going over some notes from earlier.” 

“You should come hang out, Bruce is getting a little boring.” Tony ‘whispered’ that second part teasingly, receiving a shout from the other scientist. Peter had met Dr. Banner a few times by now and quite enjoyed his presence.

“I wouldn’t wanna bother you guys...” His voice dipped a little bit, something that he hoped Tony wouldn’t pick up on, hoping the usually very observant man wasn’t paying attention.

Of fucking course he was, Tony seemed to notice everything about him and while it made him feel special, it was difficult with his mentality. He really didn’t want anyone worrying about him.

“C’mon, I’ve got a surprise for you.” That grabbed Peter’s attention, whenever Tony had a surprise for him it was very worth ditching his plans, which usually consisted of going over everything he hated about himself, crying in bed and patrolling.

“You want me to swing over there in the rain?”

‘I will if you want me to.’ He shook his head quickly, keeping his thoughts at bay. Tony chuckled and shook his head.

“Just get May to drive you over.” 

“She’s out of town for a few days, I can just--”

“You aren’t walking, running, swinging, jogging or anything like that over here, you’ll get sick. Be ready in around twenty minutes, I’ll come get you.” Tony pointed at the camera with a serious look on his face.

“Mr. Stark, really i-it’s fine...” Peter had shifted so that he was sitting up now, hunched over a pillow that he’d put over his thighs. He felt guilty that Tony was worried, that Tony cared. No one should’ve wasted their energy on caring for him.

“I’m telling May that you can stay with me until she gets back. Get your stuff together, Kid.” With a swift motion, Peter saw Tony pull his phone out and presumably started to message his aunt. 

“I can’t stay with you, I’ve got school.” As much as he would love to stay with his mentor for a few days, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t risk Tony seeing anything, he’d tell May and then she would want him to talk to a therapist and he’d just be wasting everyone’s time.

“Peter, stop arguing with me. I know you, I know that you’ll forget to fucking eat if you don’t have someone to tell you.”

He had a point and Peter knew that damn well. He was planning on eating a couple granola bars a day, maybe a sandwich or some soup. He sighed in defeat and nodded towards his phone.

“Alright... I’ll be ready, I guess.”

“Twenty minutes.” Tony repeated before hanging up the call. Peter threw his phone back against his bed and felt his stomach drop, the immediate nausea rushing through his throat and into his, luckily closed, mouth.

He pushed off his bed and bounded to the bathroom, tripping up a couple of times from the sudden lack of coordination overtaking him.

With vomit dripping out of the corners of his mouth, he collapsed over the toilet and opened his mouth with a sense of relief. He placed his forehead onto his forearm which had covered the toilet seat, feeling the small amount of food he’d had that day resurface.

The last of the vomit came out along with some choked sobs. His throat burned from the way the stomach acid had come up and became stuck from keeping his mouth closed. Peter lifted his head up slowly, not entirely sure where that burst of nausea had come from but he was terrified it would return.

“Fuck...” His voice shook along with his body as he leveraged his body, stepping up with one knee then the other, clutching to the bathtub so he wouldn’t stumble. Gripping to every surface he could, he slowly managed to get back to his room so he could get his things together.

It didn’t take him long to get what he needed; a few sets of clothes, his phone charger and headphones. He looked around before zipping his bag, realizing that he had almost forgotten his binder for the second time in a day. He shoved it into the back of his backpack, glancing at his desk...

Should he bring his diary?

Peter bit his lip, reaching out with hesitance. Would Tony judge him if he saw it?

‘You fucking freak’

With annoyance, he grabbed it and hid it in a smaller pocket of his bag. He knew the only way to vent about his problems was writing them, talking to people about it was an anxiety-inducing nightmare.

With a final check to make sure he had what he wanted, he finally zipped up his bag and tossed it over his shoulder. Peter’s hands shook as he locked the door and walked down the hallway, hood up and head looking down.

He leaned against the doorway of the building entrance, waiting to see Tony pull up. When a yellow Porsche parked in front of the doors, he bolted out to get out of the rain as quickly as possible.

Peter was hit with a blast of heat as soon as he opened the passenger door, a very welcome feeling. He slid into the seat and slammed the door shut, running his fingers through his hair once again.

"Hey, Kid.” Tony adjusted slightly so that he could look over to Peter comfortably, propping his knee up onto the seat, his back leaning against the door. The younger man shifted uncomfortably, tapping his fingers against his lap and biting his lip until he tasted blood.

“How was school?” The sudden voice startled him... Maybe it wasn’t so much the suddenness of it but how gentle his voice was, usually Tony’s voice was quite energetic, loud even.

“It- school was uh- i-it was good...” Peter nodded with his own sentence, shrugging and shrinking down into the seat. Tony nodded with his eyes squinted, scanning over the boy’s body language, speech patterns and overall personality. He turned back to sit in the seat normally, pushing back on the gas.

“Did that kid bother you at all today? Ah, what’s that fucker’s name...” Tony tapped the steering wheel, trying to remember who Peter said had been bullying him at school.

“F-Flash? No he--” Peter gripped at his wrist tightly, his breath became suffocating as he thought about last period. He opened his mouth to finish his sentence, only to choke up on his words, feeling the need to vomit again.

Freak

Faggot

Attention whore

Peter’s mind pushed him back into the dark corners of his head, the spot he’d just barely managed to step out of, only to be held back.

“Pete? What’s going on, Kid?” Tony looked over to Peter as he held his hands to his mouth firmly, eyes shut tightly with tears trying to escape. In an effort to try and get Peter’s head straight, Tony pulled over to the side of the road and grabbed his shoulders gently.

“Peter, look-look at me, Peter.” When Peter felt a hand touch the side of his face softly, he turned to look at Tony, still holding his mouth shut. 

“Pete, you gotta breath.” Tony had dealt with more than his share of anxiety attacks, he knew how to deal with them. He knew that Peter had anxiety but he hadn’t had a clue that it was as bad as it was being presented.

Peter’s head was rushing, he was ready to die right there and then.

“I-I--”

“Just breath, Kid.”

“I’m so-orry-” 

“Breath.” Tony’s grip tightened on the kid’s shoulders in an attempt to help him ground himself, an attempt to help him feel better.

After a few minutes of just sitting in the car on the side of the road, the rain pouring down onto the car roof, Peter’s breathing became more settled and he managed to look up to Tony.

“How’re you feeling, Peter?”

He stayed silent and stared out of the window now, trying to find the will to not kill himself.

He just had an anxiety attack in front of Tony Stark.

He made him worry. He was so selfish that he couldn’t manage to hold his emotions in just a little while longer.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Dear diary,

I had an anxiety attack in front of Mr. Stark. I just want to die.

I just want to die.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


End file.
